'Ezra!'
Her voice rang out in the wilderness, but was soon swallowed up by the snowstorm. Sabine Wren wasn't usually one to lose hope quickly, but as harsh flecks of snow pelted her hood and armor, she was beginning to falter.
To her side, her companion, Ahsoka Tano looked equally low-spirited. It had been a few days since they've arrived on Ordep, having plunged deep into the Unknown Regions as they searched for her long-lost companion, Ezra Bridger. Ahsoka had a good feeling about this place, yet all they found here was endlessly harsh landscapes and no signs of life. The storm had been raging for a few hours now, showing no indication of even slowing down. Judging from the weather, it's going to be even worse soon.
'Ezra!' Sabine cried out again, her voice hoarse.
Ahsoka put one hand on Sabine's shoulder. 'There's nothing we can do now. Let's find shelter. We'll continue our search tomorrow.'
Sabine scanned her surroundings. She had gotten nothing from her helmet's sensors. She'd taken it off to shout Ezra's name, and now her face felt numb from the cold.
'You said he's close by. We can still reach him.' Sabine struggled to say.
'We won't be able to do much in this weather,' Ahsoka told her. 'I can't sense him anywhere close, and if we don't move now, we're going to freeze.' She patted Sabine's shoulder gently. 'It's time to go.'
'No one can survive in this weather,' Sabine said miserably. 'He might be frozen in a ditch somewhere.'
'Or maybe he's warm and safe in a cave somewhere,' Ahsoka countered. 'Which is where we should go if we're going to survive. We can't find him if we're dead.'
Sabine took one last look at the storm. For months, she'd scoured the Unknown Regions with Ahsoka to bring her friend home. For years, she'd missed Ezra's company and the easy friendship they'd shared. A near decade of longing, despair and frustration weighted on her, and the knowledge that Ezra was almost within reach tempted her to ignore Ahsoka's warning and push on. But Ahsoka was right: they can't find Ezra if they freeze here.
'Alright,' Sabine said finally. 'Let's go.'
Putting her helmet back on, she followed Ahsoka as they retreated, her staff glowing faintly in the snow.
…
…
…
Sabine and Ahsoka sat around a fireplace in a cave, recovering from their time in the snow. Firelight cast ghostly shadows across the walls.
Ahsoka sat cross-legged and eyes-closed, her expression calm and serene, as one would be when under deep meditation. Her staff lay in front of her on the cave floor. Sabine sat on the other side of the fire, turning Ezra's lightsaber in her hands. She stared at it, examining the simple, practical design and running her hands over its features. Once she had felt heart-shattering grief as she held it, back when Ezra had first disappeared, and the saber was the only relic of her friend. Just looking at it had brought memories of bonding and adventure that it hurt like broken glass, leaving her in tears and lamenting the unfairness of the galaxy. Over time, the pain had lessened, and the saber only brought a brush of nostalgia, bringing a bittersweet smile to her lips.
Now, as Sabine's hands roamed gently over the weapon, she was once again reminded of her time with Ezra: his unshakable faith and devotion to her; his encouragement during training for the darksaber; him coming to her for aid after escaping Thrawn on Atollon, believing she could rally her clan to help; his selflessness when facing the Inquisitors on the abandoned Republic medical station; his thoughtfulness in letting her paint the TIE fighter he and Zeb had stolen; the understanding between them during moments of weakness and vulnerability; the easy comradeship during missions; and of course, the moment in the control room of the Imperial dome, when Sabine had covered Ezra's decision to do what he needed to do. She had looked in his eyes and understood how much he needed to go on this path alone, and she couldn't bring herself to stop him. She cared for him too much for that.
'I know I can always count on you,' Ezra had told her. This line, which had stayed with Sabine for so long, now echoed in her mind, filling her with a reckless urge to finish their search. They were getting so close…
'You're anxious,' Ahsoka said, eyes still closed.
Sabine looked up and sighed. 'I always forget you Force users can do that,' she teased.
Ahsoka waited a moment before replying. 'I know you're committed, but you have to be patient. Acting out of instinct can be dangerous, making us do things we might regret later.'
'I know, Ahsoka. It's just…we've been going on for a few months now, world after world. I've been let down and disappointed each time we didn't find anything, and now that you've sensed he's close by, I just wanted nothing more than to find him right now. I haven't seen him in almost ten years, Ahsoka. I don't want to waste any more time.'
She paused, contemplating what else to say. She was no longer the loner who pushed people away, nor the teenager who tried to run away from her past and hide her emotions. She was more comfortable in using her voice, expressing what she felt in a more mature way. Yet a near decade of separation with Ezra had left her with doubts that chewed at her heart: What if he's not the same anymore? What if the bond they've had is no longer there? Ezra had been away longer than they've been together. Would he even want to come back after all this time?
'Have you ever been in a situation where you're too late to change anything?' Sabine found herself asking.
Ahsoka opened her eyes. Sabine caught a brief flash of something in them: grief hidden away, a sense of regret that ran deep inside, and a layer of hurt so strong that Sabine guessed had torn her apart in the past.
Ahsoka took her time responding. 'Yes,' she said finally. 'I have. But what I've learned is that even if you blame yourself, it's hardly your fault when that happens. It's just not meant to be, or maybe it's not your role to change it. Things will work out eventually, just maybe not the way you'd expect. You have to learn to let go of all that brings you suffering.'
'Yeah, a Jedi must not form attachments. They have to let them pass out of their lives,' Sabine said miserably.
Ahsoka gave her a warm smile. 'The Jedi did have a reputation for being like that. But there are also many contradictions. A Jedi must not have attachments, yet they also have to be compassionate. They are supposed to be keepers of the peace, but when I was a Padawan, all I've been was a soldier. After I've left the Order, I've discovered that while many people have lost faith in the Jedi, they still believed in what the Jedi represented. Values like compassion, selflessness, faith, commitment and discipline: that is what makes a Jedi, not just being part of an order. So yes, while a Jedi should not allow their attachments to influence their actions, and to make selfish or impulsive decisions because of them, a Jedi's greatest strength also comes from their connection to people, or a place.' She paused, then added, 'That's what Kanan had done, you know.'
'And Ezra,' Sabine said, remembering how much her companion had cared for his home planet, masterminding the whole plan to free Lothal from the Empire in those final days they were together. He had gained a new level of focus, as if he already knew in advance what would happen.
'Yes,' Ahsoka replied. Studying her carefully, she asked, 'Have you ever regretted letting him go?'
Sabine looked down. 'In my weaker moments, sure,' she admitted. 'But time and again I've realized that I'd made the right choice. I saw the look he gave me before he left. It was…it was what he was meant to do, for everyone. I can't be the person who stops him from doing what he thinks is right. I think I'd regret it more if I had stopped him.'
'Good,' Ahsoka said gently. 'Then it seems there shouldn't be a problem. And even if things turn out different, and Ezra is not what you hoped to be, your time together before was real. Keep reminding him of that, and let him know how much you value him. No matter what happens next, you'll know you've done the best you could. That's what any of us can do.'
Sabine sighed, feeling neither encouraged nor disheartened, but her previous anxiety was gone now.
'Alright. Thank you, Ahsoka.'
Ahsoka closed her eyes again. Taking a deep breath, she said, 'Now get some rest, Sabine. We need to be ready for what comes next.'
Sabine took one more look at Ezra's lightsaber. Soon, Ezra, she thought. Then she put the weapon back in her pack and curled on the floor, listening to the crackling fire and howling winds as she fell into uneasy sleep.
...
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Author's note: This is my version of the Sabine/Ezra reunion story after Rebels, which I have written over the course of this fall. It was fun trying to write for a mature version of Sabine, as well as imagining how her dynamic with Ahsoka would be like. I thought it would be nice for these two to have a genuine conversation about their experience, especially Ahsoka's thoughts on the Jedi and how she deals with issues concerning her former master, which I think helps console Sabine's own troubles during her long separation with Ezra.
The setting of this story in a snow planet is inspired by a sketch made by Dave Filoni way back in 2019, hinting at a possible future he envisioned for these characters. And the concept of my version of Ezra's homecoming is in huge part thanks to the works of the wonderful fanfiction authors of this site and others, which I have consumed for years. I've read many different versions of the Sabine/Ezra reunion and absorbed some great ideas and juicy writing for the two. This story, aside from me sharing how I would like Sabine and Ezra's relationship will play out, is also a show of appreciation for that. Hope you all will come to enjoy this work.